Iron Chains
by EmpressOfDalmasca
Summary: Charlotte,Sherlock's sister helps him solve the mysterious case of Lord Blackwood, while she fights her inner turmoil of her feeling for Watson.  Watson/OC
1. Prologue

The trot of hooves clanged nosily against the moist cobblestone street as two carriages led by black steeds rushed onwards. On lookers thought nothing out of the ordinary, even at night there were always a few travelers here and there. Farther ahead, two beings breathed in and out quickly, strained by the physical endurance. The two men sprinted towards the cathedral, passing under archways and blurring by townhouses and shops. One was wearing an over coat, the other was simply wearing their shirt, suspenders, and trousers, as well as a top hat.. The two ran up the stairs and across the top step. One slid down the rail to the bottom, while the other jumped off the side and tumble rolled upright. The one spun around and opened the door at the bottom and kicked open the iron gates behind it. He waited impatiently for the other, even though he was a second or two behind. His companion rolled their eyes and murmured, "Show off." under their breath. The first smirked and they proceeded through the passageway. They walked down a small flight of stairs and looked through an open arch. They saw light. A man with a lantern was looking down the spiral stairs. The man smirked at the other and tipped his head back onto the wall, thinking.

His companion backed away a bit, waiting for him to attack. He briefly smiled at the other before pulling the coat over him to further cloak him in darkness. The man with the lantern soon walked through the open doorway, lighting the small space. When he turned around, the man struck him on the ear. He then struck him in the throat, paralyzing his vocal chords. This was proceeded by a punch to the stomach and a fist to the other man's patella. The lantern man fell to the ground in a pained choked. The other grabbed hold of the lantern and spun the man's hat onto his head. He ran in the direction of the stairs, the lantern swaying dangerously as he swung it around with him.

Sherlock Holmes was on a mission, and even hell wouldn't stop him. His companion was following him and nearly out ran him, but not by much. As they descended the stairs, they could hear the eerily deep voice chanting a sort of spell in another tongue. A woman in a white dress was writhing on a stone alter as a man in a violet cloak chanted over her, his hands raised up and to the side. Torches of fire cast shadows across the scene as they flickered. Another cloaked figure stepped out from behind a column. Holmes and the man looked down from above quietly. A figure stalked up behind them, but was restrained by another. Holmes companion covered their mouthed to hold back the shocked intake of breath. Holmes grabbed the man's nose as the other held him in a standing head lock. The man struggled against his two restrainers.

"I like the hat." the man joining the two said to Holmes.

"Oh, I just picked it up." Holmes replied.

"You remember your revolver?"

" Oh, knew I forgot something. Thought I'd left the stove on."

"You did."

The silent man chuckled quietly as they conversed, and the other man's face turning red from lack of breath. Holmes released the man's nose, but the other kept him in his arms. Holmes looked at the man.

"I think that's quite enough. You are a doctor after all." Holmes told him. The man looked at the one in his arms and pressed a finger to find his pulse. He let him fall to the floor and straightened up.

"Always nice to see you Watson." Holmes said to his friend as they briefly shook hands. The two discarded their hats and Watson rid himself of his jacket.

"Where's the Inspector?" Holmes asked.

"He's getting his troops lined up."

"Hmmm. That could be all day." Holmes said, handing Watson his walking cane.

The ran down the rest of the stairs and to the floor that the sacrifice was taking place. Holmes put his hat over a random man's mouth before punching him, which knocked him to the ground. Watson smiled to himself as he ran into a trio of men, kicking them and sticking them with his cane. The man reciting the spell looked over and the other cloaked man left. The companion of Holmes loaded his revolver and spun the barrel. He ran forward and slammed the butt of the gun into the head of the man biting Watson's leg. He looked over as the woman spasming on the alter started to reach for the dagger lying next to her side. Watson hit another man on the ground with his club before pulling out his revolver as well. Holmes ran forward and forcefully grasped the woman's wrist. She writhed more as a breezed passed and blew out the torches. It ruffled the fabric of the cloak of the "sorcerer". Holmes pointed a club at the man.

"Sherlock Holmes. And his loyal dog. Tell me doctor," he said to Watson who was pointing the revolver at him, "as a medical man, have you enjoyed my work?" he asked.

"Let me show you how much I've enjoyed it." he angrily said, stepping forward.

"Watson! Don't!" Holmes said, blocking him from the man with his club. Watson looked in front of him carefully, and saw a thin and transparent glass spike protruding from the man's clasped hands.

"Observe."

"How did you see that?"

"Because I was looking for it." Holmes said and broke it in between his clubs. Watson pointed his gun again as Holmes used his club to unveil the man's face.

"Lord Blackwood?"

"You seem surprised." the man with slicked back black hair said.

"I'd say the girl deserves you attention more than he." Holmes suggested.

" Indeed." Watson muttered before hitting the lord across the face with the club. He walked to the alter just as Lestrade and his troops march in.

"I'd leave that alone if I were you boy-o." he said, pointing the gun at the man crawling on the floor towards his gun. The man raised his hands in defeat.

"Good lad." Lestrade said and kicked his face.

"Impeccable timing Lestrade." said Holmes. "We've one for the doctor and one for the rope."

" This woman needs a hospital immediately! Put her in the back of the Moriah!" Watson shouted at the policemen. He gently helped them lift her off of the alter. A policeman cuffed Lord Blackwood and was about to pull him forward, when the man shook him off.

"If you don't mind." the lord ground out.

"Get him out of my sight." spat Lestrade.

The police stood awkwardly next to the prisoner, who reluctantly moved.

"And you were supposed to wait for my orders." he said, turning to Holmes.

"If I had, you'd be cleaning up a corpse and chasing a rumor." the man replied. "Besides, the girl's parents hired me, not the Yard. Why they'd thought you'd require any assistance is beyond me."

"Well, London will breath a sigh of relief." Lestrade muttered.

"Indeed. Congratulations, Lestrade." Watson piped up.

"Bravo Inspector. Have a cigar." Lestrade took the smoke from Holmes and gazed at it.

"Gentlemen." the three men looked over. "Cheese!" a man with a camera stated. Holmes raised the club and blocked his profile as the flash went off.

"Yes, well done Lestrade." a voice came from behind a pillar. All eyes turned to the man who had been originally with Holmes. Sherlock rolled his eyes.

"You can take off that awful disguise now, you know that right?"

"I know that." the person huffed, their voice rising a few octaves. The man stepped out of the shadows and in front of them. He pulled off his top hat and waves of ebony hair fell from it and cascaded down their back.

"You know Charlotte, that outfit is unbecoming of you. Serves your figure no justice." Holmes smirked.

"At least I bathe, my dear brother." she replied smugly.

"A woman!" Lestrade exclaimed.

"Of course Inspector. She did do a well job of clubbing that man, did she not?"

The inspector grunted unhappily as he turned to leave and rejoin his troops. Sherlock was mulling about, looking at details that would most probably be of no use.

"Last case?" Charlotte asked Watson.

"Definitely." he groaned. She chuckled and shook her head.

"What shall I do without you? He will drive me mad." she said, catching his eye. He smiled kindly.

"You did it once before. Surely you will be fine."

She frowned and nodded. "I will miss you." she said under her breath, but he didn't seem to hear it. He was too busy trying to convince her brother to go back upstairs and get some well earned rest.


	2. Hardly the Gems of a Governess

"Yes Sherlock, it will make a fine invention." Charlotte sighed into the darkness of her brother's room in 221B, Baker Street. She could hear the faint chime of the clock's bell outside. The normal chatter and clang of carriages rang out in the air. A paper boy was shouting, "Blackwood hangs tomorrow! Read all about it!"

Charlotte sighed and smoothed out the folds in her trousers as her brother aimed his gun and shot three times. She was seated as far from him as the room allowed and was sitting by the fire. She shook her head and went back to reading her adventure novel. She wished in her head that he would marry one day, but she knew that would never happen, the same as her marrying anyone. In her peripheral vision, she say him fiddle with a part of the gun and shoot it again. She winced at the shot, the contraption not doing anything to suppress the noise. She didn't bother looking up from her book as there was a knock at the door. There was no use since it would be either or Watson.

The door cracked open and sure enough, John popped his head in. "Permission to enter the armory?" he asked, annoyed.

"Granted." her brother answered, shooting again. He had now formed a large VR in the wall out of bullet holes.

"Watson, I am in the process of inventing a devise that suppresses the sound of a gunshot." he said to his friend.

Watson threw open one of the closed drapes, letting light pour in blindingly. Holmes shouted out as it hit him. Charlotte ignored her brother and daintily sipped her tea, turning the page of the novel.

"It's not working." Watson told her brother, earning a giggle from her. "Can I see that?" the doctor held out his hand. Holmes handed him the gun and put a hand over his eyes. Watson placed the gun on a nearby table and shuffled papers around and moving misplaced objects. He threw two pages to the ground and brought the rest with him towards the fire.

"You know it's been three months." he continued, "since your last case." He walked around Charlotte and hastily moved the whistling pot away from the fire with his foot. He then sniffed a bottle on the table and wrinkled his nose, dowsing the fire with it.

"Yes, yes. Gently, gently, Watson. Be gentle with me-" he yelled out again as Watson pulled back another drape.

"Don't you think it's time you found another one?" Watson said, looking at the papers. Holmes had thrown himself onto the floor and was now crawling towards his friend.

"I can't but agree. My mind rebels at stagnation. Give me problems. Give me work. The sooner the better."

Watson put his hand down. "Paper." he gave it to Holmes.

"Thank you." he said and sat up on the stool.

"Let's see then. There's a letter here... from Mrs. Ramsey of Queen's Park." Watson said as Holmes looked at the paper's front page.

"Her husband's disappeared."

" He's in Belgium with the scullery maid." Holmes said. "Is it November?"

"Yes, Holmes. Alright. Lady Radford reports...Oh, her emerald bracelet has disappeared." Watson said.

"Insurance swindle. Lord Radford likes fast women and slow ponies. Oh, I see you're the attending physician at Blackwood's hanging."

"Yes. It was our last case together and I wanted to see it through to the end."

It was quiet as Holmes didn't respond. Watson cleared his throat before there was another knock at the door. It opened and walked in with a tray of tea.

"A Mr. Lewis is seeking-" Watson continued but was interrupted.

"There is only one case that intrigues me at present: The curious case of , the absentee landlady. I've been studying her comings and goings. They appear most sinister." he said, practically glaring at her.

"Tea? ?" the landlady asked, holding the tray forward slightly.

"Is it poisoned, nanny?"

"There's enough of that in you already." she replied smugly. She went down pick something up after laying the tray down.

"Don't touch! Everything is in it's proper place...as per usual, nanny."

She walked by and happened look at the ground.

"He's killed the dog. Again." she remarked.

"What have you done to Gladstone now?" Watson asked angrily, rushing over to the comatose bulldog.

"I was simply testing a new anesthetic. He doesn't mind." Holmes protested. Watson stood after checking the dog's pulse ans faced his friend.

"Holmes, as your doctor-"

"He'll be as right as a trivet in no time."

"As your friend! You've been in this room for two weeks. I insist, you have to get out."

Holmes sat in his armchair in boredom. "There's nothing of interest for me, out there, on earth, at all." he replied. Charlotte put down her tea after taking a drink.

"Mmm...I agree." she said.

" So, you're free this evening?" Watson asked after taking in a deep breath.

"Absolutely."

"Dinner?"

"Wonderful?"

"The Royale?"

"Our favorite." Holmes said, winking at his sister.

"Mary's coming."

Holmes looked at his sister, who had stopped her cup on her lips, just after she had sipped. She calming swallowed and eyes her brother sadly.

"Not available." he responded for the both of them.

"You two are meeting her!" Watson shouted at them.

"Have you proposed yet?"

"No. I haven't found the right ring."

"Then it's not official."

"It's happening, whether you like it or not. 8:30. The Royale. And wear a jacket. You." he said turning and pointing at Charlotte.

"Please wear something suitable of a lady please." He then turned and left.

"You wear a jacket." Holmes retaliated as the door shut.

Both of the Holmes' eyes were covered in a thin veil of saline. "I suppose I'll get ready now. We might as well be early." Charlotte muttered, he voice on the verge of breaking.

* * *

The two sat side by side at the white clothed table. Holmes was checking his silver pocket watch and Charlotte was laying her head delicately on his shoulder. He had his hair neat and Charlotte had forced him to take a bath and do as Watson instructed, wear a jacket. Charlotte was in a beautiful silk sapphire gown that make her eyes and hair seem all the darker. Her hair was softly curled and pulled to the side by a ribbon. They closed their eyes and listened to the din around them. Over all, they heard the clock ticking most loudly.

"Holmes. Charlotte."

"Mmm?" they hummed in unison.

"You're early." Watson said. The two opened their eyes and to the couple in front of them. John was in blue and green uniform with a woman with blonde hair wearing a violet dress.

"Fashionably." Holmes said, pasting on a fake smile. Charlotte smiled slightly and stood as well as her brother.

"Miss Mary Morstan." Watson introduced.

"My goodness. What a pleasure." Holmes said and kissed her knuckles. "For the life of me, I don't know why it's taken him so long to introduce us properly."

Charlotte smiled and loosely shook the woman's hand. The two women sat first. "The pleasure is mine." Mary said. The men then followed, Watson looking fairly uncomfortable.

"It really is quite a thrill to meet you, Mr. Holmes. You as well Miss Holmes." Mary said sweetly. Charlotte nodded and tensed since Watson was seated close to her.

"I've heard so much about you. I have a pile of detective novels at home. Wilkie Collins, Poe."

"It's true." Watson said.

"It can seem a little far-fetched though sometimes...making these grand assumptions out of tiny details."

"That's not quite right,is it?" Holmes asked. Charlotte held back a smile as her brother looked at Mary.

"In fact, the little details are by far the most important. Take Watson." he said, about to give an example. Charlotte scooted her chair back to give him room.

"I intend to." Mary said. Holmes fake laughed and rolled his eyes as he looked at his sister. Charlotte looked down and fiddled with the silver bracelet on her wrist.

"See his walking stick? A rare African snakewood..." he pulled the end of the stick and pulled forth a blade, "hiding a blade of high-tensile steel. A few were awarded to veterans of the Afghan war." he said and slid it back into place.

"So I can assume he's a decorated soldier. Strong, brave, born to be a man of action. And neat like all military men. Now, I check his pockets." he reached forward and Watson didn't have time to stop him as he slid his fingers into the cloth, pulling a slip forth. He then unfolded it with his fingers.

"Ah. A stub from a boxing match. Now I can infer he's a bit of a gambler. I'd keep an eye on that dowry if I were you."

" Those days are behind me." Watson said.

"Right behind you. He's cost us the rent more than once." he smiled.

"Now take my sister for example." he said. Charlotte cleared her throat.

"Sherlock-"

"You can see that she is quite beautiful and delicate. What you can't tell is, that she has killed a man on occasion." he said.

Charlotte cleared her throat at the look of shock Mary gave her. "It was self defense. You can also tell that I bathe regularly, unlike my twin." she said.

"So you are twins?" Mary asked. Holmes grunted and Charlotte nodded.

"Well, with all due respect Mr. Holmes, you know John and your sister very well. What about a complete stranger? What can you tell about me?" Mary asked.

"You?"

"I don't think-"

"I don't know that-" Watson said.

"Not at dinner."

"Perhaps some other time."

"I insist." Mary said.

"You insist?"

"You remember we discussed this."

"The lady insists." he moved his chair closer to his new victim, unable to give up this opportunity. Charlotte shot John an apologetic looked and thanked him for the glass of wine he handed her. She stared down at it as he began studying the other woman.

"You're a governess."

"Well done."

"Yes well done. Shall we? Waiter." John tried to get their attention.

"Your student is a boy of 8."

" Charlie is 7 actually."

"Charlie huh? Then he's tall for his age. He flicked ink at you today." he said.

" Is there ink on my face?" she asked Watson.

"There's nothing wrong with you face." he replied.

"There are two drops on your ear in fact. India blue's nearly impossible to wash off. Anyway, a very impetuous act by the boy. But you're too experienced to act rashly..."

Charlotte and John glanced nervously at each other as he took a drink.

"...which is why the lady for whom you work lent you that necklace. Oriental pearls, diamonds, a flawless ruby. Hardly the gems of a governess. The jewels you are not wearing tell us more."

"Holmes!" Watson warned and Charlotte put a hand on his shoulder.

" You were engaged. The ring is gone, but the lighter skin where it once sat suggests that you spent some time abroad wearing it proudly..."

Charlotte's eye caught the movement of Mary covering her left ring finger with her hand.

"...that is until you were informed of its true, modest worth." he said as she took the offered wine from Watson. Charlotte sighed and sat hers down, knowing all too well what Mary was going to do.

" At which point you broke off the engagement and returned to England for better prospects. A doctor, perhaps." he finished. Mary threw her wine onto his face and Charlotte gasped.

"I'm so so so sorry John!" Charlotte whispered to him. He placed his hand on hers briefly.

"It's not your fault." he murmured back.

"Right on all counts, Mr. Holmes. Apart from one. I didn't leave him. He died." She looked at John and then picked up her purse and left.

"I'm taking the carriage home. Find your own way back, Sherlock." Charlotte said and left as well.

John and Sherlock sat there in silence.

"Well done old boy." John said, leaving Holmes to dine alone.


	3. Death is only the beginning

**WHoo! Thanks for the review! As you know, I don't own anything but Charlotte! : )**

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* * *

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"Watson?"

"Right." the doctor replied to the man strumming on the violin. "Let's go."

Holmes had a wooden chair tipped over with a glass jar on it and a magnifying glass placed over the lip of the jar. A swarm of flies were buzzing around frantically inside as Sherlock eyed them intently. Watson walked over to a nearby table and looked through the small viles that were strew about.

"Now, if I play a chromatic scale there's no measurable response." Holmes continued, plucking at the strings and watching his prisoners.

"You do know what your drinking is meant for eye surgery?" Watson asked, annoyance laced in his voice as he picked up one of the glass viles.

"But, now..."Holmes continued, ignoring his friend. "...and this is remarkable... if I change to atonal clusters, viola, they fly in counterclockwise, synchronized concentric circles, as though a regimented flock." Holmes watched intently as he switched his pluckings. Watson slowly walked closer and gazed into the glass jar.

"Watson this is exceptional. I, using musical theory, have created order out of chaos." He looked briefly at his friend and resumed his experiment.

"How did you lure them in?" Watson asked in wonder.

"Excellent question. Individually. I've been at it for six hours." Holmes proudly stated, lowering his violin.

"And what happens if I do this?" Watson asked, moving his arm up.

"What?"

John carefully removed the magnifying glass from the top of the jar and lightly tapped it with his walking stick. The two men looked upwards and watched as the flies darted out of their prison. Watson placed the glass on the chair.

"Right." Holmes sadly said.

"Clean yourself up. You are Blackwood's last request." Holmes looked up, shocked.

He left the room, giving Holmes a moment to think, who thought a moment before bolting out of the room. He grabbed his coat on the way out and blew out the candle. He ran down the stairs and saw Watson get into a carriage. He quickly followed in and slammed the small door. Watson was silent, but raised an eyebrow. Holmes looked out of the window as the coach slowly started to head towards their destination.

"You smell terrible." a voice stated from beside him. He groaned and slowly looked to his left. Charlotte sat their with her nose wrinkle delicately in disgust. He smirked.

"And you smell splendid." he remarked, making a note to exaggerate a sniff.

"I know I do." she huffed and turned away.

It was awkward in the small space, neither Watson or Charlotte looking or willing to speak to him, let alone acknowledge his presence. He glanced out of the window Watson was looking through and leaned across the seat.

"Look at those towering structures," he said to break the silence, "It's the first combination of bascule and suspension bridge ever attempted. Most innovative."

John briefly looked at it in boredom and Charlotte sighed. The either of them could care less about the large iron bridge going across the waters below.

"What an industrious empire." he continued, still trying to get the two to speak.

"Oh, I have your winnings from last night. " Watson and Charlotte both looked as he waved the papers in front of them, effectively attracting their attention.

"You weren't there, so I made a customary bet." Watson slowly reached for it, but Holmes pulled it away.

"Ah! You're right. I'll keep it with your checkbook, locked safely away in my drawer."

Watson shook his head and licked his lips.

"Did you know the opera house is featuring Don Giovanni? I could easily procure a couple of tickets if you had any cultural inclinations this evening."

Watson sighed and Holmes unfortunately went on. "You have the grand gift of silence, Watson. It makes you quite invaluable as a companion."

"I resent that you do not have this gift." Charlotte muttered as Watson's fist flew outwards, striking her brother in the center of his face.

"Ah!" he cried out and put a handkerchief to his nose.

"I knew she'd been engaged. She'd told me."

"So that's no to the opera then? Perhaps my sister will go with me?" he inclined his head towards her, though didn't receive any answer. It was quiet again as the three fell into silence. Holmes looked over and pulled a piece of cloth away from Watson's lap, who tried to retrieve it.

"That was my waistcoat."

"I though we agreed it's to small for you." Holmes defended.

"I'd like it back."

"I thought we agreed."

"I want it back." Watson angrily said, grabbing onto one end. The fabric strained as the two held tightly onto it. Holmes stared at Watson, but let go. Watson, with a tight jaw, bundled it up and quickly proceeded to toss it carelessly out the window. It breezed by Charlotte and brushed past her hair. She watched as it landed on the dirty road in a heap, and a man picked it up and put it straight onto his body. She looked up to see Watson smiling slightly. She rolled her eyes and gazed out of the window.

"I think I am officially in need of a husband. You two wear me out." she mumbled. Watson grinned further and Holmes rolled his eyes.

"Then who would stay with me? Keep me from misbehaving?" he asked.

"The Nanny." she said smugly. Holmes groaned and hit his head off of the window pane.

The carriage then came to a stop and the three looked out to see police blocking religious protesters shouting outside and waving their signs that were black and painted in gold lettering.

A police opened their door for them. "This way Mr. Holmes," he said. Holmes got out, then Watson who helped Charlotte out.

"Blackwood certainly seems to have got the crowd into something of a fear frenzy." Watson said as Charlotte's feet where on the ground.

"Which I'm certain will disperse once his feet have stopped twitching. Care to come along?" Holmes looked to his friend.

"No, you're on your own, old cock. I've no business with him whilst he's alive."

"Suit yourself mother hen." Holmes said before walking off.

"See you soon John." Charlotte said and gently kissed his cheek.

"Yes. Take care." he said, flushed. She nodded her head and ran off towards Holmes

* * *

Inside the prison, a nervous policeman led the way through the corridors. He kept glancing at Charlotte as he walked.

"Something the matter?" she asked kindly.

"No ma'am. It's just...I'm sorry but I don't think a lady should be allowed down 'ere." he whispered. She smiled and winked at him.

"Believe when I say that I can take care of myself."

He relaxed slightly, but that was not saying he wasn't still as stiff as a board.

"It seems you have lots of rooms to let." Holmes noticed as they walked by. All of the cells' doors were open and revealed their emptiness.

"We had to move the prisoners, sir. We were gonna have a riot on our hands. He has a peculiar effect on the inmates. As though..." He stopped walking.

" He can get inside their 'eads." he finished nervously.

"I'm sure I can find my own way if you have other duties to perform." Holmes said to the police.

"Much obliged, sir. Thank you, sir." he said gratefully before running in the direction they had just came from.

"You sure you want to come with? I don't want him-"

"I will be fine. If not, you can always buy me dinner." she smiled and lovingly patted his cheek. She gulped slightly as she heard the lord murmuring.

Holmes slowly proceeded forward with Charlotte's arm safely in the crook of his. The two looked around the cell and Charlotte held in a gasp at the carvings adorning the stone walls.

A black crow was perched on the barred window.

"I love what you've done with the place. " Holmes calmly said.

"So glad you could accept my invitation." Blackwood said.

"I just have a small point of concern."

"How can I help?"

" I'd followed the murders with interest. While my heart went out to the families of the victims, I couldn't but notice a criminal mastery in the stroke of your brush."

"You're too kind."

" However, by comparison, your work in the crypt was more akin to a finger painting." he said. Charlotte ducked his head into her brother's shoulder to hide her smile. It would be like him to somehow poke fun. Blackwood turned around and kept a finger in his place in the book.

"So now you're curious as to whether there's a larger game afoot. Hello my dear." Blackwood said to her. She frowned and Holmes slipped his hand into hers and intertwined their finger.

"Either that or, um, shortly my friend will pronounce you dead and I thought I might keep him company. "

"You mistake is to imagine that anything early's led to this moment. You error of judgement is to assume that I'm holding the brush at all. I'm merely the channel."

"MY only wish is that I caught you sooner. You see, five lives might have been spared."

"Those lives were a necessity. Sacrifice. Five otherwise meaningless creatures called to serve a greater purpose."

"I wonder if they's let Watson and me dissect your brain. After your hanged, of course. I'd wager there's some deformity that'd be scientifically significant. The you too, could serve a greater purpose." Holmes turned himself and Charlotte around and pulled forth his pipe. He pulled it to his lips and suck air through it to make sure it was clear.

"," Blackwood said from between their heads," you must widen your gaze." Charlotte stiffened, nervous even thought there were bars blocking this villain from her.

"I'm concerned that you underestimate the gravity of coming events. You and I are bound together on a journey that will twist the very fabric of nature. But beneath your mask of logic, I sense a fragility. That worries me. Steel your mind, Holmes. I need you."

"You've come a long way down from the House of Lords." Holmes stopped him.

"And I will rise again."

"Bon voyage. Come my dear." Holmes said and pulled them away from the bars, placing the pipe between his lips.

"Pay attention." Blackwood hissed, stopping the two in their tracks.

"Three more will die, and there is nothing you can do to save them. You must accept that this is beyond your control or, by the time you realize that you made all of this possible, it'll be the last sane thought in your head."

Holmes looked to the side and lit his pipe, moving forward. Charlotte let her hand slip from his and she stayed put. He looked back at her with raised eyebrows.

"Wait for me outside. I have a question for him." He was about to protest but she met his eyes and sighed. He hesitated before turning around and leaving she turned around and faced the standing lord.

"Would you have killed me? Or was there a random choosing of those girls?" she asked.

"You serve a great role in this story. No, I would have passed you up and chosen the female by your side."

She turned and looked at him over her shoulder. "Well then, Lord Blackwood, I wish you no peace what so ever in your death." she hissed. He chuckled and flashed a smile that chilled her to her bones.

"As do I. Death, is only the beginning."

She shivered before she walked fast in pace to the world outside.

* * *

Charlotte sat in the small plush bed that was hers, staring into space. Watson and Sherlock were talking about the hanging, and Watson had assured the man was dead. Even though Charlotte trusted her friend the doctor, she was still unnerved.

_"Well then, Lord Blackwood, I wish you no peace what so ever in your death."_

_ "As do I. Death, is only the beginning."_

She shivered and wrapped her blanket tighter around her shoulders. Watson looked up from his paper.

"Have you caught a cold? You really should take better care of yourself, Charlotte." he sighed and stood, walking towards her.

"I feel fine." she murmured as he pressed a warm hand to her forehead.

"Then what is the matter?" Holmes yelled across the room to her.

"What he said."

"What who said?" Watson asked. She shook her head and gave him a shaky smile.

"Does this have anything to do with what you asked Blackwood when I left?" Holmes groaned.

"It's nothing. He was just trying to spook me." she reassured herself. Watson gently patted her on the shoulder.

"Nothing to fear. He is no more."

"Of course." she said to herself. "Nothing to fear."


	4. Scones, Midgets, and Toffee Apples

Charlotte strolled elegantly down the streets of London. She let the breeze waft over her, bringing the smell of warm chocolate from a nearby sweets shop. She carried a white lace parasol in her right hand, shielding her from the unforgiving sun. Her hair was piled into a loose bun and she was dressed in a blue silk dress. She was on her way to 221B Baker Street to spend the rest of the day at home with her brother. He was in a fowl mood this morning so she decided to take a walk to get peace and quiet for a little while. Charlotte wanted to cheer him up, so she made a turn and stepped into the shop. Chocolates, caramel, toffee apples, fudge, cakes, and scones of all kinds were arranged artfully under the glass counter. A man with ice blonde hair and striking silver eyes stood behind the counter, grinning when she walked in.

"Good day, Miss Holmes." he greeted. She grinned back at him.

"A good day to you, too, ."

Gabriel Woodrow was the same age as Charlotte and Sherlock, and had grown up in the same town as them when they were children. Charlotte would come to the little shop to visit her friend at least once a week.

"What can I help you with?" he asked, his deep voice sounding warm and silky like the chocolates displayed around him.

"Hmm. Well, Sherlock hasn't been himself. I thought I would get him some sweets. I pray it will possibly make it a little less unbearable to be around him."

Gabriel nodded thoughtfully. He grinned and turned to the counter.

"I have just the thing. We made a fresh batch of raspberry scones. He fancies those if I'm not mistaken."

Charlotte nodded. "Some of those." she said, pulling out her change purse. "How have you been?" she asked him. He raised an eyebrow as he slid the scones into a red pastel colored bag with gold lettering, _Woodrow Confectionery. _He rolled the bag closed and pulled out a small box as well.

"I have been well. And you?"

"As well as I'll ever be with Sherlock on the loose." She handed the amount of money she knew to pay. He handed her the bag and box. Her eyebrows knit together at the extra handed to her. "Mr. Woodrow, I didn't-"

"I know," he interrupted. "It's a gift."

She beamed at him. "Thank you very much. Goodbye Mr. Woodrow."

"Goodbye." he chuckled. He watched her turn and leave, the small bell above the door twinkling as she left.

"Charlotte." he whispered lovingly.

* * *

"Did I just pass Irene Adler?" Charlotte shrieked as she burst into the room containing her brother and Watson. Her eyes were wide, her hands clutching the parasol and sweets.

"It appears you did." Watson supplied. She threw her parasol to the side, grumbling.

"I didn't catch that, my dear. What did you say?" Holmes asked because of her mumbling.

"I said. Why can't she just go and drown in the Thames. You know I despise her!" The tone of her voice slightly scared Holmes. It sounded as cool as ice, but burned with flames from the deepest pit in Hell.

"You've been out to see Woodrow?" Watson asked her, temporarily distracting her from the woman she had just seen. Sherlock sent a thankful look, since he hadn't planned on dying at the mercy of his sibling.

"Yes, and I brought back scones. But...It seems Sherlock has had his fill of something _sweet._" she wryly seethed.

"What flavor?" Sherlock approached her.

"Raspberry."

"Ah, but you do not only have scones. It seems Woodrow slipped you a little present."

Charlotte glared at him, throwing the bag into his awaiting hands. She approached the small table that Watson sat next to. She wrinkled her nose at the photograph along with the Missing Person report. She sat down her mystery sweets on the table.

"Sherlock? Are you going after a ginger dwarf?" She picked up the file and read it over.

"I see. Adler wants to find him. I guess you're not her type." she smirked.

"I said the same thing." Watson laughed. She looked at her friend and rolled her eyes.

"Yes well, this man intrigues me, you two. He's got Adler on edge." Sherlock huffed. "And by the way, he is a midget."

"Which is no mean feat."

"She's intimidated. She's scared of him."

"Yet she works for him."

"Right."

"It's nothing to do with me..." Watson casually said, inspecting his fingernails, "but I advise you leave the case alone."

"Well I may not have a choice. After all, I may be paying rent on my own, thanks to you." Sherlock picked up his violin's bow and pointed it at Watson's face.

"Get that out of my face."

"It's not in your face. It's in my hand."

"Get what's in your hand out of my face."

Charlotte giggled and went to answer the door when there came knocking at it. She pulled it open to Clarkie. He took off his hat and smiled.

"Miss Holmes."

She returned his smile

"Mr. Holmes."

"Clarkie!" her brother answered.

The man nervously walked fully into the room. "Sir, Inspector Lastrade asks that you come with me at once."

"What's he done now, lost his way to Scotland Yard? Watson, grab a compass. 'You' means 'us'." Sherlock laughed.

"No, 'you' means you."

"It's Lord Blackwood sir. He uh...it appears he's come back from the grave sir." Clarkie interrupted. Charlotte tensed behind him in fear.

_ You serve a great role in this story. No, I would have passed you up and chosen the female by your side. _The man's words echoed in her head. Sherlock propped the bow against his forehead, thinking. After a moment or two, he sat forwards and placed it in his lap.

"Most engaging." he muttered.

"Very clever. I pronounced the man dead myself." Watson accused. Clarkie shifted uncomfortably.

"What are the facts?" her brother asked him.

"Groundskeeper claims he saw him walking through the graveyard just this morning."

"I'll leave this is in your capable hands." Watson leaned over and patted Sherlock's leg. "I have an appointment with Mary."

"It's not my reputation that's at stake here."

"Don't try that!" Watson pointed a finger at Holmes. Charlotte walked around Clarkie and took the seat that Watson just left, holding her head in her hands.

"The newspapers got wind of it?" Holmes asked.

"That's what we're trying to avoid." Clarkie informed.

"Certainly. What's the major concern?"

"Panic. Sheer bloody panic,sir."

"Indeed."

"You're not taking this seriously, are you Holmes?" Watson asked, sitting on the edge of the desk at the other end of the room.

"Yes, as you should." Holmes stood up. Watson opened and closed his mouth, making a noise of confusion.

"It's a matter of professional integrity. No girl wants to marry a doctor who can't tell if a man's dead or not."

Charlotte laughed and shook her head.

"What? Don't you agree? Get up Lottie, we have work to do." He said, patting her head. She stood up and swatted him away.

"Oh no you don't! You can drag John back into this, but not me! I have other things I would rather attend to." She walked back over to the door and picked up her discarded parasol and chose a flowery hat that matched her dress.

"Going for a stroll? Do you truly think it wise to go alone?" Holmes asked her.

"Oh, I won't be alone. I'm going to drop by Woodrow's during his break. At least in his company, I won't have to examine decaying corpses." she huffed, arranging the hat on her head perfectly. She strode back over to the table and opened the box Gabriel had given her, and smiled. Chocolate covered cherries. She left them where they were and maneuvered around Clarkie.

"Aren't you going to eat any?" Watson asked.

"I am not hungry, but it is kind to thank someone for a gift. I won't make a fool of myself by not even knowing what I was given. Have fun you three. Tell me of any reanimated bodies that you see." she called to them and slammed the door behind her.

* * *

"Back so soon?" Gabriel asked as she waltzed in through the door.

"I was wondering if you would care for a stroll whilst on your break."

He grinned. She had come in just as he was about to leave for an hour or two while his sister took over. He had his hat in hand and his coat on.

"Caught me just in the nick of time. I would love some fresh air. Shall we?" He walked past her and opened the door, placing the black hat in his head. She walked through the door and he followed her. He extended his arm to her and she linked their arms together.

"Holmes still in such a foul mood that you were driven to visit me?" He mused.

"I admit it may be part of it, but I also wanted to thank you. Chocolate cherries always make him less aggravating."

"Glad I could help." He chuckled as they weaved past people rushing past. Charlotte carefully opened her parasol and held it slightly above her head. She gazed at Gabriel from the corner of her eyes. Sure, he wasn't like Watson. He didn't have smart come backs or witty remarks, but he was kind and handsome. He always went out of his way to ask how her day was if he passed her on the streets. Gabriel knew how to read her emotions and he always saw past her facade. He wasn't Watson, but she still cared for him. She examined his face, raking her eyes over his profile. He had a strong jaw and perfect bone structure. His lips looked soft and warm and the line of his nose was straight.

"Is there something on my face?" His voice broke her from her thoughts. She looked down and shook her head, at a loss for words. He just laughed.

"Cat got your tongue, Charlotte?"

"No, Gabriel." she ground out. He sighed and pulled her closer as they bustling in the streets became thicker with more people scurrying about. He was warm against her, making her tilt her head so her hat hid her blush. She looked up to see a familiar figure walking towards Madison and Haig Pawn Shop. Her eyebrows furrowed as Holmes was followed by Watson. Gabriel noticed them as well.

"He doesn't seem to be in a horrid mood." he muttered.

"It's not that. He was supposed to be at the cemetery, not here. Oh, I guess I must see what he is doing now." She turned to Gabriel and smiled.

"Would you mind terribly if I go to him?" she asked a bit nervously.

"Of course not. I hope fate will have us meet again." He bowed slightly towards her and she laughed.

"Thank you."

He pulled her arm from his gently and kissed her knuckles. He tilted his hand and turned, walking away. Once he was gone, she scurried after her brother. He was standing next to Watson, whose hand was firmly grasped in the hand of a haggard gypsy lady.

"What of the warts?" Holmes was shouting.

"She's covered in warts." the lady rasped.

"Enough." Watson was pleading.

"Are they extensive?" Holmes bellowed.

"Please enough!" Watson shouted, quieting the lady. The woman brought a pipe to her mouth as she stared down Charlotte's friend.

"That's the most apt prediction Flora has made in years." Holmes walked closer to Watson. Flora nodded in agreement.

"And precisely the reason you can't find a suitable ring."

Charlotte was a foot behind them and crossed her arms, waiting to see how it played out, her actors unknowing of her presence. She saw Watson's eyes flicker to the engagement rings sign in the window behind Sherlock's head.

"Do you have my money?" he asked.

"You are terrified of a life without the thrill of the macabre."

"Do you have my money from the flight?"

"Admit it. Admit it!"

"Give me my money!" Watson bellowed. Charlotte flinched slightly. "Holmes."

Holmes followed Watson's gaze to the sign. "I see." He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out the money, handing it to Watson. He kept one piece and gave him the rest.

"Thank you." he said in anger, walking into the shop.

"Must you always antagonize him like that." Charlotte whispered.

"I was unaware of your presence my dear. How is Gabriel?"

"He is fine."

"Have a good time?"

"It would have been more pleasant if I hadn't had to leave him to see what my darling brother was doing." She hissed. Charlotte closed her parasol and turned, following Watson inside of the shop. She found him leaning over a glass counter,looking at a large selection of rings.

"I'm sorry about my brother." she said as she rested a hand on his elbow.

"He is just being stubborn." he muttered. She laughed quietly.

"I think he just doesn't want to feel alone. You have Mary," she said in sadness," and I will be moving shortly."

He looked up at her and raised an eyebrow. "Has Woodrow wormed his way into your heart?"

"I wouldn't say that, but I am hoping one day we may start a family." she whispered.

"There is something holding you back from telling him how you feel. I can see it in your eyes."

She laughed again. "Am I truly an open book to you? I really should practice then."

"Tell me what is wrong, Charlotte."

"It is nothing."

"Lottie." He warned in exasperation. He rarely ever used her nickname, only using it when he wanted something out of her.

"I am scared." she confessed.

"Of what?"

"Heartache. I saw what happened when the rift overcame my parents. I remember how Mother cried. I don't want my love to end in disaster." she said, telling him only half of the truth. The part she didn't tell him is that she wished he would rid of Mary and notice her. He opened his mouth to say something, but she interrupted him.

"If my opinion counts, which I know it does, Mary will love this one." She pointed through the glass at gold ring with a circular ruby set in a ring of diamonds. He didn't look at it right away, gazing at her with eyes full of concern. He glanced down at it.

"I believe she will." He paid the cashier and nodded his head in thanks as the ring was handed over to him. As they walked outside, Watson grabbed hold of Charlotte's arm.

"Not all marriages end as your parents' did." He advised. She nodded to herself and opened her parasol.

"I'll keep that in mind."

* * *

Charlotte covered her nose so she would not gag at the odors wafting in the air around them. Only moments ago, they had broken into the home of what was once the ginger midget's home. Dead pigs lie on tables and a copper pot was filled with dead frogs. She walked along side her brother, hiding her face in his shoulder.

" Ammonium sulfate, among other aromas. Phosphorus." He walked around the room as Watson and Charlotte looked from a distance, not wanting to go near anything with flies buzzing around it.

"Formaldehyde." He looked through the glass containers and used a wip to lift up papers from a round stone with scorch marks covering it. She stayed in the middle of the room as Watson did a once over of the papers lining the walls.

"It looks like he was attempting to combine some kind of sorcery and scientific formula." he muttered. Charlotte cringed at the disturbing monsters carved into the wall's woodwork. Her brother walked over to a pile of burnt files and picked them up.

"More importantly, let's see what he was trying to dispose of. Potassium, magnesium." He lay the papers in front of Watson.

"Sultaphytic acid."

"It'll suck the iron right out of the ink as long as it's not too burnt."

Watson fetched a fresh piece of paper. Charlotte closed her eyes in frustration. She had left with Gabriel to avoid having to tag along, and in the end it hadn't made a difference besides spending time with him. She ignored their talking, letting Holmes pull her from the room once the two had finished investigating.

"That's one odor I can't put my finger on." Holmes said as the three looked down at a table, facing away from the door.

"Is it candy floss? Molasses?"

Charlotte sniffed the air and shrugged. "Maple syrup?" they said in unison. Watson was looking behind them.

"Barley sugar."

"Toffee apple." Watson informed, turning around and facing the door. The sibling turned to see to men standing in the doorway. True enough, one was chomping away at an apple, the other, though, was holding a tin can of oil.

"Let me guess. Judging by your arsenic tool kit, you're here to burn down the building and extinguish all evidence therein."

"Just one minute, boys. Darling." said the one holding the can. Charlotte wrinkled her nose at their lack of hygiene. "Oh, Dredger!" he called. The three tensed as they heard, as well as felt, heavy footfalls approaching. A large man with scars covering his face and shaved head marched in. He was a good four feet taller than Charlotte. He spoke in French, confusing Charlotte. While Sherlock had studied French, Charlotte chose to learn Russian, which did come in handy. Holmes pointed the whip at the man.

"Meat or potatoes?"

"I'm going home after this." Charlotte hissed.

"My ten minutes are up." Watson glared at her brother. He threw off his hat and hit the man coming at him in the eyes, forcing his backwards. The largest man went after Holmes, rolling up his sleeves. The man set down his can and proceeded towards her.

"Be a good girl, poppet. And I won't hurt you." He cackled. She smirked and daintily pulled off her hat, setting on the table behind her. She smiled sweetly as he came at her. She brought up her parasol and swung it around with such speed, it whizzed in the air. It cracked the man in his ear, a shout of pain bellowed from deep within his chest. He threw a clumsy punch at her, which she dodged and hit him again on the head. While he was in shock, she ran at him and rammed the blunt end of her parasol at his chest, so as not to pierce him. She then whacked him in the neck, making him pass out. She made a little giggle as the man fighting Watson gaped at her. This gave Watson the advantage, letting him hit the man in his eye. He howled in pain and turned on Watson. Charlotte looked over to her brother as he was lifted into the air and thrown over a table. She smirked and examined her nails as she waited for them to either finish, or for her opponent to awaken.

Her head shot up in shock as the Frenchman was thrown back in the air and propelled through a set of doors and out of the room. She gaped at her brother, who was holding a metal gadget. She raised an eyebrow and he shrugged. Everything went still as everyone look at him. The fight came alive once more as Watson kicked off from a table and pushed his attacker away. The man at Charlotte's feet groaned and staggered to his feet. She grinned at him. His eyes widened and he held up his hands in defeat. She cracked her neck from left to right before advancing on him. He somehow got his hands around her neck and was choking her, his muscular hand wringing her dainty neck. She gasped and scratched at his hands in vain. Watson hand his arms ready to slice a gash in his opponents head with a found sword, but he had a blade to his throat. Just when she thought she would pass out, out of no where the Frenchman was flying in the air again and knock the man from her and the one from Watson. She gulped in much needed air as the two stared at Holmes as he blew steam from the metal object.

"Holmes. What is that?" Watson puffed.

"I don't know." he said, in French. That was the only phrase Charlotte knew, for Holmes used it around her immensely as excuses as to why her petticoats went missing. She later found out from Watson that he had women over now and again whose own were torn in Holmes's passion. The Dredger jumped out of the window at that moment, Holmes quick to follow. Watson groaned as he realized his ring was missing and he had next to no hope of finding it. He ran after Holmes, leaving Charlotte alone. She picked up her parasol, frowning at the large bend in the wood.

"Damn. I dented it on that fools swollen head." She found her hat and arranged it on her head. Her neck was throbbing with a dull pain. She quietly left the building and traveled all the way back to Woodrow's shop. The bell rang once again as she entered. Gabriel was behind the counter, helping a lady and her husband pick out sweets to enjoy on their day out. As they payed for the goods, he called out to her.

"Three times in one day. That is a record. I'm starting to feel special." His voice was amused. She rolled her eyes and collapsed into a chair provided. Sometimes customers would enjoy their sweets inside the warm and brightly lit shop, so Gabriel had put out chairs and tables for them. She closed her eyes.

"He will be the death of me, Gabriel." She ignored the sniff of the woman in the room, not approving of the informal way she addressed the man. Gabriel ignored her too and fully took in Charlotte.

"By God! Whatever happened to your neck?" He exclaimed, rushing around the counter and sitting next to her. His sister, Grace, shooed the couple out of the shop and turned the sign so the shop was closed. She smiled at Charlotte, going back to give her and Gabriel privacy. Charlotte smiled thankfully at her.

"Well, Sherlock decided to inspect this dead man's home for clue. Three men came to torch it and get rid of evidence. I knocked one out, but when he was revived, he somehow got a hold of me. Thankfully Sherlock somehow managed to get him off of me for good."

"Should you see a doctor?" he asked, standing. He went back behind the counter and poured two mugs of some steaming liquid.

"I'll be alright. Thank you though."

He slid into the chair again and handed her a mug. She gazed at the thick and creamy brown liquid.

"Hot chocolate?"

He laughed and winked at her. "It's special. Just try it."

Charlotte complied and brought the porcelain to her lips.

"It has caramel." she announced warmly after it slid down her aching throat.

"Indeed."

He placed his hand over hers on the table, gently squeezing it. "Are you sure you are alright?"

"If you must know..." she started, looking into his silver eyes. Her face softened and she lost her serious tone. "I am much better in your company."

He beamed at her. "Glad to hear it."

She took another sip of her drink as the door burst open. A disheveled Watson limped in with Mary, dressed in black, gliding in behind him.

"I thought I would find you here." He rounded on her, his eyes slightly wild.

"John? Are you alright?"

"No I am not. That thing you call your brother got us arrested! I am lucky. Mary got me out. It is all up to you as when to bail him."

"I'd rather let him rot for a while. If it weren't for him, I wouldn't be sore and have a broken parasol."

Watson stared at her for a minute. "You need me to take a look at your neck. It's bruising awfully!" he exclaimed. Her eyes shot to Gabriel

"Why didn't you say something?" she screeched. He lifted his hands in defense.

"I asked if you were to see a doctor. I think you look fine, even with a neck black and blue."

She sighed and smiled to herself, drinking more hot chocolate.

"Go home John. I'll be fine."

John gaped at her in astonishment. He turned to Mary for help. She shrugged and smiled kindly at Charlotte. Mary took Watson's hand and pulled it a little.

"Come. Charlotte is in good hands."

As she pulled him from the shop, Watson's eyes never left her. Gabriel sighed.

"Well, since the shop has been closed early, why don't we go to the park?" he suggested.

"I would like that."

* * *

**Don't lose hope on Watson and Charlotte! XD This is setting up later chapters that pull them closer together. Please review!**


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